I use the nomadic Native American Indian culture of as a baseline for comparing and determining progression or regression.
The nomadic variable is very significant because it’s when a culture of peoples become sedentary in residency that they begin to specialize in their duties and talents, and that’s when corruption, unfairness, manipulation and greed begins to germinate, incubate and flourish. Also the accumulation of wealth was a real burden to move around constantly, and so, taking only they needed and sharing the surplus was a win-win option that promoted solidarity and strength for the whole culture.
The Native Americans excelled and prided themselves in raising their kids to have the innately divine spirit of confidence within all their children. And their respect for the wisdom of the elders, along with the appreciation of all of their animals and fellow tribe members was the magic that made them strong, brave and indestructible, almost.
Today, we kill over a million dogs every year because they have no purpose in our culture. We medicate ourselves with anxiety and depression drugs because we have no purpose with focus in our culture. Our kids wander about, getting into drugs and sex for lack of purpose with focus in our culture. And our elders, with their lifetime wisdom and experiences are atrophying in their rockers because they have no purpose with focus in our culture.
It’s too bad we can’t set our capitalistic profit obsessions aside and connect some simple humanitarian dots with our most precious resources.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
NATURE verses NURTURE
Emotions are learned through experience and example.
Example: Take identical twins (identical DNA with slightly different phenotypes due to epigenetic influence ), as soon as they are born and put one in a cage, situated in the middle of a puppy mill with a nursing bottle only and treat this child the same as all the other dogs in there for capitalistic breeding purposes. Maintain identical living situation with no socialization at all, no exercise, never getting to leave the cage, minimal food, dirty water, filth, excrement etc, etc, etc. Include a mean kennel worker that torments daily with a squirt gun that causes severe aggression, or maybe a mean kennel worker that torments with a squirt gun then abuses with physical violence that causes severe fearfulness.
Put the other identical twin in a loving, well structured home with lots of dogs, cats, ginny pigs, birds and other children for playmates. Expose this child to all the wonderful experiences of birthing with all the many loving pets and all the natural nurturing care a well balanced mother will give to her off spring and see if empathy isn't picked up, absorbed, and internalized as a learned behavior (mimicking plus observational self-experience).
Then, after ten years of these consistent living conditions give CAT scans to both children and I suspect there will be a big difference in their neurological maps with many, many more large dead spots on the two legged creature that barks.
There are exceptions to everything along with unforeseen variables that make good fodder for argument and this might seem an extreme hypothesis, but Hitler and many like-minded psychopaths/sociopaths throughout human history did similar things to millions of folks. Just saying, as a realist.
Example: Take identical twins (identical DNA with slightly different phenotypes due to epigenetic influence ), as soon as they are born and put one in a cage, situated in the middle of a puppy mill with a nursing bottle only and treat this child the same as all the other dogs in there for capitalistic breeding purposes. Maintain identical living situation with no socialization at all, no exercise, never getting to leave the cage, minimal food, dirty water, filth, excrement etc, etc, etc. Include a mean kennel worker that torments daily with a squirt gun that causes severe aggression, or maybe a mean kennel worker that torments with a squirt gun then abuses with physical violence that causes severe fearfulness.
Put the other identical twin in a loving, well structured home with lots of dogs, cats, ginny pigs, birds and other children for playmates. Expose this child to all the wonderful experiences of birthing with all the many loving pets and all the natural nurturing care a well balanced mother will give to her off spring and see if empathy isn't picked up, absorbed, and internalized as a learned behavior (mimicking plus observational self-experience).
Then, after ten years of these consistent living conditions give CAT scans to both children and I suspect there will be a big difference in their neurological maps with many, many more large dead spots on the two legged creature that barks.
There are exceptions to everything along with unforeseen variables that make good fodder for argument and this might seem an extreme hypothesis, but Hitler and many like-minded psychopaths/sociopaths throughout human history did similar things to millions of folks. Just saying, as a realist.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Accessing and Evoking Our Potential
I think the underlying root problem is one of natural instinct itself, survival of the fittest (me verses you). It’s in our instinct to heed to the needs of our own individual existence, first and foremost. It's hard wired in our survival code just like the body mechanisms that shut down the blood supply from the extremities for survival of the brain and heart when traumatized.
The real deal lies in our capacity to learn how to develop compassion and empathy for all of our fellow creatures, and it is a LEARNING process. It is the most important human potential trait there is and it should be taught to all children, from grade school on up. It’s in this capacity that we grow and develop into either sociopaths or caring and loving human beings.
The person who gives freely of their own time and resources to help a child learn good study habits for school is a good teacher. And that selfless generosity of compassion generates empathetic belief systems in both parties involved, and that kind of magic grows stronger and stronger as it’s used more and more. And, further more, if we don't use it, we lose it.
The person who puts off his/her own pressing priorities to take the old dog out for a short slow walk, to exercise the joints and muscles of arthritis, experiences the simple pleasures of empathetic exercise (It’s a Reality Check). And it all comes down to how we perceive ourselves in this world, are we givers, or are we takers? And then we tend to group-up with like minded people for team support and validation (me vs. you, or we vs. them).
The real deal lies in our capacity to learn how to develop compassion and empathy for all of our fellow creatures, and it is a LEARNING process. It is the most important human potential trait there is and it should be taught to all children, from grade school on up. It’s in this capacity that we grow and develop into either sociopaths or caring and loving human beings.
The person who gives freely of their own time and resources to help a child learn good study habits for school is a good teacher. And that selfless generosity of compassion generates empathetic belief systems in both parties involved, and that kind of magic grows stronger and stronger as it’s used more and more. And, further more, if we don't use it, we lose it.
The person who puts off his/her own pressing priorities to take the old dog out for a short slow walk, to exercise the joints and muscles of arthritis, experiences the simple pleasures of empathetic exercise (It’s a Reality Check). And it all comes down to how we perceive ourselves in this world, are we givers, or are we takers? And then we tend to group-up with like minded people for team support and validation (me vs. you, or we vs. them).
The Inside Track
The Horse Whisperer- I watched one of the original horse whisperers work their magic a few years ago in Ocala, Fla. Monty Roberts was his name and he understood horses very well. He knew what horses thought and how they perceived reality, and he communicated with them on that level.
With any and all of the troubled horses he had to correct (gentle) he first had to gain their respect, as their leader. To do this he first let them run away, their most basic and primal defense mechanism, and he kept up with them as they ran just as fast as they could. Then he passed them up, and jumped in front of them causing them to startle, shift direction and run back in the same direction they had just come from, and he still kept pace with them the whole time, right their at their flank. Over and over again he did this, boy could this Monty guy could run fast.
The horses became exhausted yet this puny guy that ran on only two legs just kept out-running them, and jumping in front no less, face on!!! And when the horse become tired and slowed down a bit, Monty would toss a rope at their hind quarters (panic) and they would shoot off again, and always, Monty would be right there, running along side of them. And when they finally did give in to him, convinced by now that he meant them no harm, but totally certain that Monty could run faster and further then they ever could, they submitted (ear and head position)to his leadership and guidance.
Of course the whole race was in a 50' round pen and all Monty had to do was turn in circles while the horse had to run the full circumference, but the horses never knew that. Perception of reality is not always reality. It’s all about having the inside track, LOL.
With any and all of the troubled horses he had to correct (gentle) he first had to gain their respect, as their leader. To do this he first let them run away, their most basic and primal defense mechanism, and he kept up with them as they ran just as fast as they could. Then he passed them up, and jumped in front of them causing them to startle, shift direction and run back in the same direction they had just come from, and he still kept pace with them the whole time, right their at their flank. Over and over again he did this, boy could this Monty guy could run fast.
The horses became exhausted yet this puny guy that ran on only two legs just kept out-running them, and jumping in front no less, face on!!! And when the horse become tired and slowed down a bit, Monty would toss a rope at their hind quarters (panic) and they would shoot off again, and always, Monty would be right there, running along side of them. And when they finally did give in to him, convinced by now that he meant them no harm, but totally certain that Monty could run faster and further then they ever could, they submitted (ear and head position)to his leadership and guidance.
Of course the whole race was in a 50' round pen and all Monty had to do was turn in circles while the horse had to run the full circumference, but the horses never knew that. Perception of reality is not always reality. It’s all about having the inside track, LOL.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
The Observation Room
Experiential and Observation Learning Dynamics
Background
This is a conceptual book of how walking the walk overrules and supersedes talking the talk. Showing, not telling, is the real master key to realistic learning. It is about how a young-at-heart and very creative single mom (Christina Virginia Freeman), and her two kids, (Cathy Anne, 16), and (Buddy, 15), that take over an animal shelter, with the help of her father (Joe Freeman). There, they all team-up and pursue every effort they can think of to help the dogs, cats, troubled kids, elders and all others that want to join in and become part of the modeling process. It is about the real magic that comes from giving.
This is a conceptual book of how walking the walk overrules and supersedes talking the talk. Showing, not telling, is the real master key to realistic learning. It is about how a young-at-heart and very creative single mom (Christina Virginia Freeman), and her two kids, (Cathy Anne, 16), and (Buddy, 15), that take over an animal shelter, with the help of her father (Joe Freeman). There, they all team-up and pursue every effort they can think of to help the dogs, cats, troubled kids, elders and all others that want to join in and become part of the modeling process. It is about the real magic that comes from giving.
Sally and Julia followed their two dogs around the last bend and walked along side the fenced-enclosed side-yard. Inside they saw Buddy coaxing a dog up the A-frame obstacle, one of the six training challenges in the Agility course that filled the Shelter’s entire yard. He was showing a young couple how to clicker train a German Shepard they were looking to adopt.
Ol’ Maude led Sally right to the post at the far end of an observation bench and started smelling it. Julia chuckled, “We’ve got P-Mail.” Sally laughed and they both sat down and watched Buddy tempt the Shepard up the step slope.
Ol’ Maude led Sally right to the post at the far end of an observation bench and started smelling it. Julia chuckled, “We’ve got P-Mail.” Sally laughed and they both sat down and watched Buddy tempt the Shepard up the step slope.
Julia was giving Lucky a hinny scratch with one hand and pointed to Buddy with her other. “See how he breaks up the whole process into little steps, one little cleat-step at a time, up one side and then down the other. In the beginning, each little step is an accomplishment, and each little accomplishment gets a click and a small treat. Then after the dog gets the hang of it, Buddy will eliminate some of the treats. He‘ll eventually end up just the clicking for each step up and down linking them all together into one continuous chain response. Then, at the bottom of the other side, the dog gets one big treat with a lot of praise and petting.”
“So what’s the clicker do?”
“The sound of the clicker means a treat is coming. That association of sound and treat becomes a positive and reinforcing reward for a job well done. The click becomes a conditioned sound reinforcer that means the same thing as the treat.”
Sally looked up and smiled, “Sorta like a sound that tastes good?”
Julia laughed aloud. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was trying to say!” She reached to her neck, pulled out her own clicker, and clicked it twice. “That was very perceptive Sally, and you get a double-treat for that just as soon as we get inside.”
Just then, a voice came from the little box that sat on top of Ol’ Maud’s post. “Hi Sally, this is Dr. Amy. I got back in town early and decided to come directly here to the shelter, for an extra long session with you, if you’re free.”
Sally looked at the box with surprise then to Julia.
Julia turned toward the shelter building and waved, “We’re on our way Amy,” she said then turned back. She smiled at the bewildered expression on Sally’s face, “Yep, around here we’re high-tech, at least when it comes to communication anyway.” Julia laughed and stood up. “Let’s go get you that double treat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Observation Room resembled a large rectangular lunchroom. The entire west wall consisted of three huge picture windows that showed the entire side-yard where the agility-course obstacles were set up for exercise training. Underneath the viewing glass was a long Formica counter-top with ten barstools spaced out alongside. The counter top had sound dividers every three feet that raised or lowered for conversation privacy, and three speaker control boxes, one at each end and the middle.
Julia and Sally led their dogs inside and Julia unsnapped Ol’ Maude who went right to the water bowl then laid down on her padded cushion for some observation and a nap. She then put a short lanyard-lead on Lucky and hooked him near Ol’ Maude, with his own cushion.
Dr. Amy Baxter sat at the far left end of the counter and pushed her notes aside to greet Sally and Julia. “Hi girls, have a nice dog walk?
“Yes,” Sally said as she walked over and climbed up on a barstool next to Amy. “We walked the dogs all the way to the creek and Julia said maybe tomorrow we can go swinging from the Tarzan-rope and jump into the swim hole.”
“Wow! Now that sounds like fun. Do you know how to swim, Sally?”
“Not yet, but Julia’s going to teach me, right Julia?
“Yep, it’s as easy as floating in a bathtub,” she chuckled.
Julia went to the refrigerator and got a large pitcher of ice tea and filled their glasses then went to a cupboard and opened it, “And for Sally’s treat, we have Snickers, Butterfingers, or a sucker, or a cookie, umm… oatmeal, I think? Would you like something to snack on Amy?”
Sally piped up for a cookie and Dr. Amy asked if she might have an apple.
Julia gave Sally the cookie and sat the basket of apples on the counter. She then went to the cupboard above the leash rack and pulled out a box of clickers, “And for your second treat, you get your very own clicker. What’s your favorite color, Sally?”
“Red,” she said with a beaming smile.
“Then red it is.” Julia picked out a red one, walked back, and slipped the lanyard over Sally’s head. “Always keep it with you, and always be ready to click-and-treat, for any good behavior you see.”
Sally beamed a smile. “Thank you, Julia, and I‘m going to start looking around for good behavior right now.”
Julia smiled, “You’re welcome, Sally.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buddy was with the same couple now but started working with another one of the five dogs hooked to observation stakes scattered throughout the agility course. This dog resembled a cocker spaniel but had some terrier features mixed in and she seemed a little shy. Buddy was calmly going slow-and-easy here while charging up the clicker with a lot of small treats and praise. He was introducing the dog to the tunnel by shaping the pup’s curious nature as he went.
He led the dog completely around the tunnel then lifted the thin flexible plastic tubing up and sat it back down. He pushed it around and pulled it back and forth while gently shaking it. The dog cautiously approached and smelled it while it was fully stretched out and when Buddy began to collapse it shorter the dog barked at it. When he had it collapsed all the way, it resembled a big yellow tire and the dog pawed at it like a toy. Buddy then stretched it back out to its full ten foot length again and set it down. He went around to the front opening, got down on his hands and knees, and went in. The pup followed with excitement.
Amy smiled and tilted her head a little, “He’s really good with dogs, where did he learn how to do all that?”
Julia chuckled, “He’s a dog whisperer, ya know. He always has been ever since he was young; he just understands how dogs think. He said he use to be a dog in a previous lifetime. It could be true too because I use to be a horse!”
Sally choked up a bit on her cookies and laughed aloud. She reached to her neck and clicked her clicker. “That’s funny Julia.”
Julia chuckled again, “Well, thank you Sally.” She glanced at Amy with a smile then back to Sally, “So what do I get for a treat?”
Sally reached for an apple and gave it to Julia, “Here, this is good for you, one a day will keep the doctor away.”
Dr. Amy looked sternly into Sally’s eyes, “You are so wise, little one,” then took a huge bite out of her own apple.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just then, Christina walked into the room with a young woman and a small boy that looked to be about ten. “Julia, could you help Judy and her son Ralphy look for a nice dog for his tenth birthday?”
“Sure,” she said as she stood up and raised the partition divider, giving Amy and Sally some privacy. She walked over, introduced herself, and shook hands with Ralph. “Happy birthday, Ralph.”
Christina handed Julia the clipboard, “They’ve looked at some of our dogs on the web site, but they want to walk around and see them in person.”
“Good, we have some special dogs around here, let’s go have a look-see,” she said as she turned towards the door. “What kind of dog are you looking for, Ralph?”
The mom said, “Something small that doesn’t shed, or bark, or bite or….
“Moooommmmm!!!” Ralph cut in. “You promised. I want a big dog, with lots of hair.”
Julia laughed, “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” she said as she opened the door and grabbed a leash off the hook, “Let’s go find your dog then we’ll go for a nice trail walk.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amy pulled her notes back out and gave a beaming smile to Sally. “Now, I have some good news. We just got the official okay for researching Experiential Learning Techniques. What that means is we are going to study and research all the various ways of how we think and learn things, through experience. And you, little one, will be our youngest study subject. What do you think of that?”
Sally paused at the sounds of all that techno talk and said, “I don’t know. I guess. But it doesn’t sound as fun as swinging in the creek.”
“Ah hah, but learning how to swim is a very important and powerful learning experience, don’t you think?
“Yes, but… Oh, I get it now, learning fun stuff.”
“Yes! Learning is fun, and that’s going to be our first lesson. One of the primary tools we will use is a writing-journal, similar to the private journal you started last week. Cathy Anne is setting up a blog for this now and we will publish a journal-entry every week describing your progress in all the various learning skills you experience. The students at the university will read these updates and interact with us with questions and ideas. You see, they too are learning, I am learning and you are learning, and the dogs too, we are all learning. Somebody will be working with you everyday on this journal project and it will be fun. So, what do you think?”
“You said it would be about swimming and training the dogs and stuff?”
“Yes. Plus all the other interesting things you will be doing and learning both here at the shelter and at the farm.”
“Okay, but I can’t write very fast.”
Amy smiled, “Not a problem.”
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Chapter One - Damage Control
Prologue
The past is the past, water under the bridge, spilled milk. We must live in the moment, the present, the here and now, for it’s in how we live out today that shapes and defines who we will become. What happens after the fact is the choice that determines the extent of mental damage.
‘Damage Control’ is a dramatization, a realistic fiction story based on an ACTUAL beating and rape that happened in Virginia last year to seven year old Sally (not her real name), in her own living room. It’s a story about healing, balance, and the reality that is found only by ‘Walking the Walk’.
‘Damage Control’ is a dramatization, a realistic fiction story based on an ACTUAL beating and rape that happened in Virginia last year to seven year old Sally (not her real name), in her own living room. It’s a story about healing, balance, and the reality that is found only by ‘Walking the Walk’.
~~~Flash back to February 2010~~~
Three weeks have passed since that fateful day in February and Sally was not responding well at all. None of the counseling, the drugs, or the therapy sessions had shown any positive improvement in alleviating Sally’s nightmares, her fear, or her trauma.
Her parents pleaded for help and finally the child-care counselor involved with this case contacted, TARP (Teens At Risk Program) and spoke to Dr. Amy Baxter at a University in Pennsylvania.. They arranged to bring Sally and her parents to Gray’s Farm, an experiential research learning- lab affiliated with the Animal Shelter the following week for a six-month intensive, TARP intervention program, with all expenses covered by the research foundation.
The family was set up in trailer #12, which nestled in along side the horse corral and the pasture with an over-looking view of Wintergreen Gorge. The father had to return home after a few days but the mother stayed on and participated in the activities and chores around the farm and at the animal shelter. For sixteen hours a day, everyday, Sally’s day was filled with action, adventure, structure, mentoring, learning, teaching, dog training, and much, much more, all with the good guidance and mentoring from the many good and caring volunteers who understood pain and suffering. Her nightmares subsided.
Chapter 1
Damage Control
~~~The Animal Shelter~~~
Seventeen year old, Julia Roberts and fifteen year old, Buddy, had been working with Sally to develop her assertiveness and self-identity through defensive action moves in the Combat Hapkido Self-Defense Program. “It’s all about having control,” Julia repeated over and over to Sally.
Julia showed Sally just a couple simple techniques and focused on speed, accuracy, conviction, and spontaneous reaction. “There are at least five techniques to break the thumb of an 800 lb gorilla and you already know two of them,” she said. Sally was getting readings of ‘SEVERE SPRAIN’ on the ‘Rule of Thumb Meter’, a contraption Julia helped design and build to measure the actual twist-torque delivered to a fake thumb.
Already, Sally knew the sidekick and the front kick, and her impact force, speed, and accuracy kept improving every day. Julia explained to her that it doesn’t matter how many moves you know, but how well you know them. She endlessly repeated her mantra, “It’s better to know one thing well, than ten things not quite good enough in a pinch.”
Mrs. Andrews, Sally’s mom, sat on the bench along the front of the animal shelter and watched Julia, Sally, and Buddy finish their workout. The kick-bag hung from a big oak tree and Buddy stood behind it, supporting it. Julia looked over to Sally and smiled, “Okay, let’s do it one last time for today.” She looked directly at the bag and shouted, “MY NAME IS JULIA AND YOU WILL NOT HURT ME!” She went into a backspin, followed by a round-kick hitting high on the bag almost knocking Buddy off his balance with the impact force. “Take THAT.” she said and turned to Sally. “Your turn, show your mom what you can do.”
Sally glanced around at her mom then back at the bag. She zoned in on that exact spot Julia had showed her and with conviction in her voice, she shouted loudly, “MY NAME IS SALLY AND YOU WILL NOT HURT ME!” She stepped in and snapped out a front kick with accuracy and force. At the impact Buddy, in his bag-support position, grunted loudly and pushed himself off into a back roll and bounced off the tree then rolled backwards again. He got up, staggered a few steps, feigned a faint, and fell to the ground motionless and pleaded, “Hey, take it easy on me, I’m a good guy.” Sally and Julia looked at each other, did a high-five slap, and started laughing.
Mrs. Andrews just sat there for a moment. She could not believe the difference in her daughter after only two weeks. She wasn’t sure she would ever see her sweet child laugh again, but…. A tear seeped from her eye, and she had to shake herself to control her voice, “You’re doing really good sweetheart.”
Julia put her arm around Sally as they walked towards her mother, “She’s going to be a champ Mrs. Andrews, you can be real proud of her.”
Her mom stood up and took Sally in her arms, and they hugged. “But Julia, I’m worried about Sally going through life in attack mode like that, it invites trouble.”
Julia put her arm around Sally as they walked towards her mother, “She’s going to be a champ Mrs. Andrews, you can be real proud of her.”
Her mom stood up and took Sally in her arms, and they hugged. “But Julia, I’m worried about Sally going through life in attack mode like that, it invites trouble.”
“Mrs. Andrews. This is not about being in attack mode or about fighting, or even about the win or lose outcome. This is about developing self-efficacy, and self-confidence. This is about self-empowerment. It’s about having perfected a skill of action and assertiveness that generates a power within. It’s about knowing and believing in yourself and your skills of choice until they become a part of you. It’s about never again feeling helpless and defenseless without options.”
“I can see that now, Julia, thank you, and what a powerful belief to have within.”
“Yes indeed ma‘am. It’s a mentally magic state of mind; it’s the ‘ART’ of self-defense. We’re going to do a short cool-down walk now, and then she can get ready for her appointment with Dr. Amy. Come on Sally, let’s get a quick drink, grab a dog, and hit the trails.” Julia patted Sally’s back as they walked to the front door. “You’re doing good kid, there’s nobody ever gonna mess with you again.”
~~~WALKING THE WALK~~~
After grabbing two water bottles from the fridge and two leashes off the hooks, Julia and Sally went into the kennel area and walked down ‘dog-isle’. About halfway Julia stopped, opened a gate and put a leash on a little beagle pup named Lucky, and handed the leash to Sally. She walked on to the large-dog section and went to the last kennel on the left. She knelt down and spoke softly to Ol’ Maude, an old retriever mix they found last year beaten and almost starved to death. Ol’ Maude was about ten years old and nobody seemed interested in adopting the old dog, so Julia did.
Ol’ Maude was Julia’s favorite and she got real excited when Julia stood up, opened her gate, and snapped on a leash. She wagged her tail so hard it swayed her whole backside and she almost lost her balance. She loved her walks with Julia everyday.
With people in tow, the dogs led the way out the side door, around the agility course, and up the well-worn trail that meandered through the trees. Ol’ Maude took the lead position with her keen nose and sharp eyes. She was always on the lookout and smelling for any signs of danger, or food. This was her pack and she had a job to do.
Julia and Sally followed behind their dogs with an easy walk and some small talk until they came to a fork in the trail. Julia paused for a moment. “What time is your meeting with Dr. Amy?”
“Three o’clock.” Sally said.
Julia looked at her watch then back to Sally, “We’d better take the short trail this time.” She then tugged the leash to the left with two easy snaps of her wrist and said “Haw.” Ol’ Maude, who knew the lingo well, headed off onto the trail to the left.
The short trail led directly to the creek before looping back toward the shelter. Sally looked over to Julia and asked, “How long have you been with the shelter, Julia?”
“For about a year now, my real home is in West Virginia. Did you know that Joe Freeman, we call him J.F. for short, is Christina’s dad, and he lives right next door to me and that’s where Christina grew up? And Buddy always came down for the summers to visit his granddad, and that’s how we became best friends. When Christina decided to take over the shelter, as a family effort with both her kids, Buddy and Cathy Anne, both her dad and I came up to help."
“Don’t you miss being home?”
“Yeah, I miss home, but this is important, to help Christina get this Animal Shelter going.” Julia went off in thought for a second, “Ya know what I really miss the most though is watching the wild mustangs frolic in the creek late in the evenings, with the moonlight reflecting off the water. It looks like a liquid silver ribbon running back and forth through the valley. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
Sally's eyes lit up, “YOU have wild mustangs?”
“Yep, ‘bout 25 of them, all ranging free in the upper meadows behind J.F.s cabin. We bring them down every year for the rodeos.”
“Rodeos," Sally said with disgust. "That’s mean; I saw how they are so mean to those horses on TV.”
“Nobody’s mean to my horses. I’m with them almost all the time and they actually kind of like it. They spend all year long looking forward for rodeo season to begin so they can buck those cowboys off their backs and put ‘em in the dirt, on their butts.” Julia smiled and looked over to Sally, “Do you ride?”
“No, I’ve always wanted to but…”
“Well how about tonight after supper, you can come along with me and Buddy for a little trail ride down Manitowoc Valley.”
“Sure.” Sally piped up with enthusiasm. “Julia? Will you teach me to barrel race like you do?”
“I think that might be something we can work at. Yeah! That’s good idea, Sally.”
~~~~~
They reached the half waypoint of the trail where it followed alongside the babbling creek, briefly, before winding back into the woods towards the shelter. “Hey, you want to switch dogs?” Julia asked as she held out her leash towards Sally.
“Sure, I’ll take the lead with Ol’ Maude” she said, and they switched dogs and positions. Sally admired the way Ol’ Maude just moseyed along smelling everything there was to smell when she noticed a big scar on her hind leg. “What’s that Julia?” she asked, pointing to the scar.
“That’s an old battle wound Maude carries with her. She was abused and beaten pretty bad before we found her.”
Sally stared at the scar that ran from the top of the left hip all the way down to her knee, “Who would ever hurt a dog like Ol’ Maude?”
“I don’t know!” Julia said vehemently. “But they sure as heck wouldn’t if I was around.” She looked over to Sally then off to the side and threw out a swift round kick at some imagined dog abuser, and shouted out simultaneously, “UHAAUUH!”
Sally then imitated Julia’s kick with one of her own, “My name is Ol’ Maude, and you will not hurt me. Uhaauh!”
O’ Maude turned her head around to see who called out her name and what the ruckus was about, and then turned back again, to her job at hand.
Author Notes
Photo by Chuck Szmurlo. Thanks for this perfect image of teamwork between mankind and animal.
This is a conceptual book of how walking the walk overrules and supersedes talking the talk. Showing, not telling, is the real master key to realistic learning. It’s about how a young-at-heart and very creative single mom (Christina Virginia Freeman), and her two kids, (Cathy Anne, 16), and (Buddy, 15), take over an animal shelter, with the help of her father (Joe Freeman). There, they all team-up and pursue every effort they can think of to help the dogs, cats, troubled kids, elders and all others that want to join in and become part of the modeling process. It is about the real magic that comes from giving.
Photo by Chuck Szmurlo. Thanks for this perfect image of teamwork between mankind and animal.
This is a conceptual book of how walking the walk overrules and supersedes talking the talk. Showing, not telling, is the real master key to realistic learning. It’s about how a young-at-heart and very creative single mom (Christina Virginia Freeman), and her two kids, (Cathy Anne, 16), and (Buddy, 15), take over an animal shelter, with the help of her father (Joe Freeman). There, they all team-up and pursue every effort they can think of to help the dogs, cats, troubled kids, elders and all others that want to join in and become part of the modeling process. It is about the real magic that comes from giving.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The American Dream
Fan Story - Philosophy Forum
http://www.fanstory.com/forumsection.jsp?secName=Philosophy&id=9
Response to CoyoteCaliente
Very interesting rant and sometimes a good drunken release of pent-up emotion is just what the doctor ordered. Take two aspirin with a large glass of water and call me in the morning. LOL. But, I must disagree with your pessimistic view of the American Dream being gone. The American Dream is just about to come alive, for those of us who can see it for what it is.
I’m talking about a new wave of insight into our priorities. I‘m talking about going deep, and finding those special esoteric values of giving of ourselves and of our time. That is where the fountain if youth is found, along with the passion that will create compassion, and the peace-of-mind within. Step off that Merry-go-round of ‘faster is better’ with ‘high-tech advancement’, and go back to the basics. We have become addicted to the narcissistic pursuits of self-pleasure with the massive accumulation of materialistic ‘things’ for self-gratification and self-image. Can you say, PHONY? EMPTY? SHALLOW? DEPRESSING?
Redirect your vision to a time when the people worked together as a tribal-team, with a united goal for the welfare of the whole. I’m talking about tapping into the overwhelming potential of finding purpose, by working with and training homeless dogs at your local shelter. And then showing wayward kids how to do it too, and in the process they will find their inner values by developing patients, structure, discipline, focus, empathy, and compassion. I’m talking about hooking up our teens-at-risk, with those elders that are wasting away with atrophy in the retirement homes without a goal or passion to live for. I’m talking about fighting back at the onslaught of Alzheimer’s disease with a new aspiration and vision. A new way of sharing their wisdom, with the youth of today, in a joint effort to help the homeless dogs.
I’m talking about getting involved with the animal shelters and making a difference. That is the New American Dream. Salvaging our untapped and mountainous refuge pile of discarded Human Resources.
http://www.fanstory.com/forumsection.jsp?secName=Philosophy&id=9
Response to CoyoteCaliente
Very interesting rant and sometimes a good drunken release of pent-up emotion is just what the doctor ordered. Take two aspirin with a large glass of water and call me in the morning. LOL. But, I must disagree with your pessimistic view of the American Dream being gone. The American Dream is just about to come alive, for those of us who can see it for what it is.
I’m talking about a new wave of insight into our priorities. I‘m talking about going deep, and finding those special esoteric values of giving of ourselves and of our time. That is where the fountain if youth is found, along with the passion that will create compassion, and the peace-of-mind within. Step off that Merry-go-round of ‘faster is better’ with ‘high-tech advancement’, and go back to the basics. We have become addicted to the narcissistic pursuits of self-pleasure with the massive accumulation of materialistic ‘things’ for self-gratification and self-image. Can you say, PHONY? EMPTY? SHALLOW? DEPRESSING?
Redirect your vision to a time when the people worked together as a tribal-team, with a united goal for the welfare of the whole. I’m talking about tapping into the overwhelming potential of finding purpose, by working with and training homeless dogs at your local shelter. And then showing wayward kids how to do it too, and in the process they will find their inner values by developing patients, structure, discipline, focus, empathy, and compassion. I’m talking about hooking up our teens-at-risk, with those elders that are wasting away with atrophy in the retirement homes without a goal or passion to live for. I’m talking about fighting back at the onslaught of Alzheimer’s disease with a new aspiration and vision. A new way of sharing their wisdom, with the youth of today, in a joint effort to help the homeless dogs.
I’m talking about getting involved with the animal shelters and making a difference. That is the New American Dream. Salvaging our untapped and mountainous refuge pile of discarded Human Resources.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
An Argument For Truth
Hey Master Pi, no problem-o.
I can see the many conflicts in our opposing positions and that might just serve us well, as control factors for balance as we proceed on. You are a scientist looking forward, to what could be, and, I am a realist looking backwards, to what should be. Now that spells CONFLICT. J We are like leaves floating down the same stream, trapped in a swirling eddy of current-thought. As we follow and lead each other around in the same directional loop, like yen and yang, we will always seem to be in opposition, as 180-degree polar opposites. We have diametrically opposed points-of-view, and that can be a good thing as we go around and around.
‘Round and ‘round we go,
Where we stop, nobody know,
Faster, faster,
We all fall down!
Haha. ROTFLMAO. Do you remember that little playground ditty, from back in the early 50s. I do. What a hoot!!!
What I am doing with my novel is looking for, finding, and solving the many problems that will resist my progress, as I make it all come alive in the ‘Real-World. As I look out into this world, I see so much need, and waste, and untapped potential that, it just makes me want to spit nails. Yet, this same ‘modern world’ just seems to want more and more, faster and bigger, and better and easier, and, we just insist on sprinting forward into the unknown, looking for that ‘Pi in the sky’. No pun intended. LOL.
I see real trouble coming down the road for us, our society. Our population is exploding, yet our need for ‘hands on deck’ (labor) is shrinking. Greed and self-centeredness is turning our world into a chaotic turmoil of discontented angst. So, the bottom line observation, from my perspective, tells me that we are doing something wrong. This futuristic experiment of ours, in fast-technology, and racing to the top for glory and prestige, money and fame, and all those other narcissistic goals are wrong, false, phony, and destructive, in so many ways.
And, the answers and solutions to all these many social problems won’t be found in those black holes out there in space either. The answers and solutions are right here in front of us, and in the many landfills of waste and trash. We have overlooked and discarded the true resources for finding contentment and purpose in life. It’s not what we have, materialistically, that provides peace, contentment, and balance in our lives, but how we use what we have, in our heart and soul. And, that’s what my book is all about, going back to the A, B, & Cs for more of that ‘Soul Power’ sorta.
Education is the key!!! That is a truism that we can all agree with, but, and there’s always a butt, everybody has one. LOL. But, where we need to make some changes, in our educational direction, is with our youth and the ol’ A, B, Cs of learning that always seems to get passed by. The most important characteristics for finding that blissful and centered zone of enlightenment can be found within each and every one of us. Compassion, empathy, self-efficacy, focus, problem-solving-techniques, respect, self-discipline, honor, group-pride, self-defense skills, etc, are all key characteristics that must be taught, shown, learned and practiced by each of our kids. Then, with those skills mastered, they can begin to develop their own sense of self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-pride.
It’s the cause and effect principal. And, there are no short cuts to this end either, at least not in the real world. There are phony imitations of self-confidence (false-pride), and fake self-esteem (arrogance), but those illusions exist only on the surface, like window dressing, and they will wash away in the first rainy downfall.
My novel is all about how we can instill strength and character into our kids, especially those kids that are in trouble and going down the wrong path. It’s a book of, ‘hands-on’ examples, of how we can come together in harmony and purpose for positive-growth. Finding a purpose in this life gives us a mission to live for, and visa versa.
I can see the many conflicts in our opposing positions and that might just serve us well, as control factors for balance as we proceed on. You are a scientist looking forward, to what could be, and, I am a realist looking backwards, to what should be. Now that spells CONFLICT. J We are like leaves floating down the same stream, trapped in a swirling eddy of current-thought. As we follow and lead each other around in the same directional loop, like yen and yang, we will always seem to be in opposition, as 180-degree polar opposites. We have diametrically opposed points-of-view, and that can be a good thing as we go around and around.
‘Round and ‘round we go,
Where we stop, nobody know,
Faster, faster,
We all fall down!
Haha. ROTFLMAO. Do you remember that little playground ditty, from back in the early 50s. I do. What a hoot!!!
What I am doing with my novel is looking for, finding, and solving the many problems that will resist my progress, as I make it all come alive in the ‘Real-World. As I look out into this world, I see so much need, and waste, and untapped potential that, it just makes me want to spit nails. Yet, this same ‘modern world’ just seems to want more and more, faster and bigger, and better and easier, and, we just insist on sprinting forward into the unknown, looking for that ‘Pi in the sky’. No pun intended. LOL.
I see real trouble coming down the road for us, our society. Our population is exploding, yet our need for ‘hands on deck’ (labor) is shrinking. Greed and self-centeredness is turning our world into a chaotic turmoil of discontented angst. So, the bottom line observation, from my perspective, tells me that we are doing something wrong. This futuristic experiment of ours, in fast-technology, and racing to the top for glory and prestige, money and fame, and all those other narcissistic goals are wrong, false, phony, and destructive, in so many ways.
And, the answers and solutions to all these many social problems won’t be found in those black holes out there in space either. The answers and solutions are right here in front of us, and in the many landfills of waste and trash. We have overlooked and discarded the true resources for finding contentment and purpose in life. It’s not what we have, materialistically, that provides peace, contentment, and balance in our lives, but how we use what we have, in our heart and soul. And, that’s what my book is all about, going back to the A, B, & Cs for more of that ‘Soul Power’ sorta.
Education is the key!!! That is a truism that we can all agree with, but, and there’s always a butt, everybody has one. LOL. But, where we need to make some changes, in our educational direction, is with our youth and the ol’ A, B, Cs of learning that always seems to get passed by. The most important characteristics for finding that blissful and centered zone of enlightenment can be found within each and every one of us. Compassion, empathy, self-efficacy, focus, problem-solving-techniques, respect, self-discipline, honor, group-pride, self-defense skills, etc, are all key characteristics that must be taught, shown, learned and practiced by each of our kids. Then, with those skills mastered, they can begin to develop their own sense of self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-pride.
It’s the cause and effect principal. And, there are no short cuts to this end either, at least not in the real world. There are phony imitations of self-confidence (false-pride), and fake self-esteem (arrogance), but those illusions exist only on the surface, like window dressing, and they will wash away in the first rainy downfall.
My novel is all about how we can instill strength and character into our kids, especially those kids that are in trouble and going down the wrong path. It’s a book of, ‘hands-on’ examples, of how we can come together in harmony and purpose for positive-growth. Finding a purpose in this life gives us a mission to live for, and visa versa.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Symbolic Trouble in the Valley of Shelter
Continued from A New Lease On Life---
They all loaded in the van and headed down the service road through the Sycamores. It had turned into one of those ominous dreary days, where the heavy dark clouds just hung low in the sky and moved so slow it was hard to tell they were moving at all. A thunderstorm had down poured all last night until early-morning and the threat of another deluge lingered, waiting for just the right moment to dump more of its burden on the already saturated areas.
Christina drove her crew down the blacktop highway into the heavily wooded valley, forged out over the millennium by the Wintergreen Gorge Creek. The narrow two-lane road tracked along side the winding and bulging creek and all three of them gazed out the window. Christina saw just how swollen the creek had become and knew it was still rising from all the run-off. She had never seen the creek this high on its banks before and watched it rage through the holler. Jake shook his head, “WOW! This looks almost like the flood we had back in the sixties back, when I worked at the shelter.”
On the other side of the creek, the shelter’s rooftop made its appearance through the trees as they neared the bridge. Christina slowed the van down to a stop at the edge, gazed at the violent boiling water below, and wondered when it would crest. She thought of the stories she’d heard about that flood of ‘68’ and for the second time this morning she set her doubts aside, and plunged forward, over the churning water below.
Pulling into the parking lot, Christina noticed a State Police vehicle parked in front of the Animal Shelter. She pulled the van into the reserved stall, and glanced over at the cruiser…“This doesn’t look good,” she mumbled to her self as she got out and went to the side doors of the van. She lowered Samantha’s wheelchair with the lift, then swiftly walked to the shelter’s door and held it wide open while Jake pushed Samantha through.
“Christina! Thank God you’re here, you forgot your cell phone again! They’re in your office,” Julia, the kennel manager said from behind the green tiled reception desk.
Opening the door to her office, she saw her father, Joe, sitting at the round table talking to a state-trooper who had been filling out a report. “What is going on?” Christina asked.
“Christina, this is Trooper Smith.” Her father said.
“Hi,” she said.
“Howdy, ma’am” the trooper said tipping his head and attempting to stand up then sitting back down at Christina’s wave.
Joe looked somberly at Christina, “This morning when I checked the mail, I found a box with a dead puppy inside.” He motioned for Christina to close the door, and then continued. “It had been brutally tortured with its throat cut.”
“Who did it?” Christina asked with a cold-stone face.
“There was a note inside, addressed to you with a strange message,” her father said handing her the note.
Christina pulled out the closest chair, sat down, and read the note. She lifted her head and looked over to her father, "This has got to be connected to that graffiti?”
“What graffiti?” the Trooper asked.
Christina got up, went to her desk drawer, and got out three pictures, “We found this painted on the outside walls Monday morning, and we thought it was just vandals."
“Do you have any idea who might have done these things?” The trooper asked.
“No.” Christina said.
“May I keep these photos?”
“Sure, I’ll print some more later.”
“Miss. Freeman, your father mentioned you had a protection order on your ex-husband.”
“That was years ago in Buffalo, he was stalking me after our divorce, but since we moved here I haven’t heard anything from him.”
“Is this something he would be capable of doing?”
She took a deep breath in then let it out slowly as she pondered, “I would like to say no, but, maybe. I heard from a friend recently in Buffalo, that things have been going very badly for him lately, with the financial melt down and all.”
The trooper looked at the pictures again, “I don’t see vandalism here, I see sophisticated-malicious hate. I’ll have our crime lab check it out for a profile and in the mean time keep alert, and call us if anything out of the ordinary happens.”
The trooper stood up, “Here’s my card and I’ll be in close touch,” he said as he walked towards the door.
“Okay, we will and thank you so very much, Trooper Smith.” Christina shook his hand and opened the door.
“Pleasure meeting you, Ma’am, Mr. Freeman,” the trooper said with a nod, then walked out into the reception area.
Christina looked at her watch, “Oh my God, where are the kids? They should be here by now!”
Just then, Cathy-Anne and Buddy walked in the door as Trooper Smith walked out. “What’s up?” Buddy asked.
Christina looked sternly at her kids, “Buddy, Cathy, I want to talk to you at the round table, now! Dad, can you check on Samantha, please, introduce yourself to Jake, and bring the critters in from the van, please? Thank you. Oh, and have Jake call his happy home, that’s all I need now is Green Acre‘s wheelchair posse coming in here looking for him, and check that creek too, will you please, it doesn’t look good?”
“Sure,” he said, as he stepped out, allowing the kids to enter the office, “Who’s Jake?” he asked himself aloud, as he glanced over to the reception desk.
Julia shrugged her shoulders, “He is the old guy, I think. He just went back to see the dogs.”
Joe shook his head, “I thought I was the old guy,” he muttered to himself then looked over to Samantha who was sitting quiet as a mouse with eyes budging. “Hi there, you must be Samantha,” he smiled. “My name is Joe, and I’m Christina’s daddy. I am so glad to finally meet you, Christina has told us all about you.”
“How do you do sir, and I am glad to meet you too, and this is my cat, Molly.”
“Well, I’ll be darned, she is sure getting big. I remember Molly when she was just a fuzz ball here. Have you meet Julia, she’s the best friend a dog or cat ever had, or a horse even? Julia, would you get our little guest a snack please?” he asked then turned and headed for the kennels.
Back in the office, Christina had closed the door and sat Buddy and Cathy down at the round table. She explained what happened, showed them the note, and told them about the puppy in detail. She figured Buddy, 15 and Cathy Ann, 16 were old enough to understand life in all its realities, both good and bad. She emphasized that they must realize the possible dangers, yet not lose any good feelings they have for their father. He may be totally innocent and completely unaware of this crisis, but at the same time, they were not to go near him with out her approval. Cathy and Buddy were sickened to find out their father could be a suspect in this.
Christina felt both fear and hate pump through her veins at the same time and her motherly, she-wolf instincts had kicked in. She went over and squeezed both of them tight in her arms, then stood up, “One more thing kids, from now on do not venture outside ALONE, at any time, anywhere, for any reason… Now crack those books,” she said then went to her computer and formulated her list:
They all loaded in the van and headed down the service road through the Sycamores. It had turned into one of those ominous dreary days, where the heavy dark clouds just hung low in the sky and moved so slow it was hard to tell they were moving at all. A thunderstorm had down poured all last night until early-morning and the threat of another deluge lingered, waiting for just the right moment to dump more of its burden on the already saturated areas.
Christina drove her crew down the blacktop highway into the heavily wooded valley, forged out over the millennium by the Wintergreen Gorge Creek. The narrow two-lane road tracked along side the winding and bulging creek and all three of them gazed out the window. Christina saw just how swollen the creek had become and knew it was still rising from all the run-off. She had never seen the creek this high on its banks before and watched it rage through the holler. Jake shook his head, “WOW! This looks almost like the flood we had back in the sixties back, when I worked at the shelter.”
On the other side of the creek, the shelter’s rooftop made its appearance through the trees as they neared the bridge. Christina slowed the van down to a stop at the edge, gazed at the violent boiling water below, and wondered when it would crest. She thought of the stories she’d heard about that flood of ‘68’ and for the second time this morning she set her doubts aside, and plunged forward, over the churning water below.
Pulling into the parking lot, Christina noticed a State Police vehicle parked in front of the Animal Shelter. She pulled the van into the reserved stall, and glanced over at the cruiser…“This doesn’t look good,” she mumbled to her self as she got out and went to the side doors of the van. She lowered Samantha’s wheelchair with the lift, then swiftly walked to the shelter’s door and held it wide open while Jake pushed Samantha through.
“Christina! Thank God you’re here, you forgot your cell phone again! They’re in your office,” Julia, the kennel manager said from behind the green tiled reception desk.
Opening the door to her office, she saw her father, Joe, sitting at the round table talking to a state-trooper who had been filling out a report. “What is going on?” Christina asked.
“Christina, this is Trooper Smith.” Her father said.
“Hi,” she said.
“Howdy, ma’am” the trooper said tipping his head and attempting to stand up then sitting back down at Christina’s wave.
Joe looked somberly at Christina, “This morning when I checked the mail, I found a box with a dead puppy inside.” He motioned for Christina to close the door, and then continued. “It had been brutally tortured with its throat cut.”
“Who did it?” Christina asked with a cold-stone face.
“There was a note inside, addressed to you with a strange message,” her father said handing her the note.
Christina pulled out the closest chair, sat down, and read the note. She lifted her head and looked over to her father, "This has got to be connected to that graffiti?”
“What graffiti?” the Trooper asked.
Christina got up, went to her desk drawer, and got out three pictures, “We found this painted on the outside walls Monday morning, and we thought it was just vandals."
“Do you have any idea who might have done these things?” The trooper asked.
“No.” Christina said.
“May I keep these photos?”
“Sure, I’ll print some more later.”
“Miss. Freeman, your father mentioned you had a protection order on your ex-husband.”
“That was years ago in Buffalo, he was stalking me after our divorce, but since we moved here I haven’t heard anything from him.”
“Is this something he would be capable of doing?”
She took a deep breath in then let it out slowly as she pondered, “I would like to say no, but, maybe. I heard from a friend recently in Buffalo, that things have been going very badly for him lately, with the financial melt down and all.”
The trooper looked at the pictures again, “I don’t see vandalism here, I see sophisticated-malicious hate. I’ll have our crime lab check it out for a profile and in the mean time keep alert, and call us if anything out of the ordinary happens.”
The trooper stood up, “Here’s my card and I’ll be in close touch,” he said as he walked towards the door.
“Okay, we will and thank you so very much, Trooper Smith.” Christina shook his hand and opened the door.
“Pleasure meeting you, Ma’am, Mr. Freeman,” the trooper said with a nod, then walked out into the reception area.
Christina looked at her watch, “Oh my God, where are the kids? They should be here by now!”
Just then, Cathy-Anne and Buddy walked in the door as Trooper Smith walked out. “What’s up?” Buddy asked.
Christina looked sternly at her kids, “Buddy, Cathy, I want to talk to you at the round table, now! Dad, can you check on Samantha, please, introduce yourself to Jake, and bring the critters in from the van, please? Thank you. Oh, and have Jake call his happy home, that’s all I need now is Green Acre‘s wheelchair posse coming in here looking for him, and check that creek too, will you please, it doesn’t look good?”
“Sure,” he said, as he stepped out, allowing the kids to enter the office, “Who’s Jake?” he asked himself aloud, as he glanced over to the reception desk.
Julia shrugged her shoulders, “He is the old guy, I think. He just went back to see the dogs.”
Joe shook his head, “I thought I was the old guy,” he muttered to himself then looked over to Samantha who was sitting quiet as a mouse with eyes budging. “Hi there, you must be Samantha,” he smiled. “My name is Joe, and I’m Christina’s daddy. I am so glad to finally meet you, Christina has told us all about you.”
“How do you do sir, and I am glad to meet you too, and this is my cat, Molly.”
“Well, I’ll be darned, she is sure getting big. I remember Molly when she was just a fuzz ball here. Have you meet Julia, she’s the best friend a dog or cat ever had, or a horse even? Julia, would you get our little guest a snack please?” he asked then turned and headed for the kennels.
Back in the office, Christina had closed the door and sat Buddy and Cathy down at the round table. She explained what happened, showed them the note, and told them about the puppy in detail. She figured Buddy, 15 and Cathy Ann, 16 were old enough to understand life in all its realities, both good and bad. She emphasized that they must realize the possible dangers, yet not lose any good feelings they have for their father. He may be totally innocent and completely unaware of this crisis, but at the same time, they were not to go near him with out her approval. Cathy and Buddy were sickened to find out their father could be a suspect in this.
Christina felt both fear and hate pump through her veins at the same time and her motherly, she-wolf instincts had kicked in. She went over and squeezed both of them tight in her arms, then stood up, “One more thing kids, from now on do not venture outside ALONE, at any time, anywhere, for any reason… Now crack those books,” she said then went to her computer and formulated her list:
1. Pick up 25 mace dispensers, one for each person involved with the shelter and three placed in various locations.
2. Every vehicle was to get one with easy access.
3. The shelter was to have somebody present at all times, 24-7, until this was resolved.
4. Pick up 3 video monitors for outside installation, covering the two sides and the front of the shelter.
5. Every body was to have a cell phone with them at all times.
6. Bring in 357 mag.
Carpe Diem
continued from Stalled Destiny
Christina set the puppy in Samantha’s lap then pushed the doors opened and guided the wheel chair through, all while vehemently muttering her outrage under her breath. “Bad omens, when will I ever learn to listen to them?” She guided the wheel chair down the concrete ramp, gritted her teeth and pinched her lips tight, “How dare he! That little squirt…” she hissed to herself, out loud.
At the bottom of the ramp, she hooked a hard left onto the sidewalk, the wheelchair lifted up on its side slightly then slammed back down and the petunias serving as corner sentries waved in the passing breeze. Samantha looked up at Christina with a startled glare but the wide-eyed expression and grinning smirk on her face made it clear that she was digging the ride.
It was a straight run down the long sidewalk to where the Shelter’s old white Chevy van sat waiting and Christina put the pedal to the metal like any good NASCAR driver would do on the straightaway. “We can’t get out of this place fast enough kido, hang on to the critters.”
Then she heard it, somebody from behind hollered . “HELLO! HELLOOO!!!”
Christina slowed down, turned her head, and saw the old man just coming around the petunias. He was stiff and clearly out of breath as he did a brisk shuffle-walk towards them. She came to a full stop, turned the wheel chair around, and stepped to the front bracing her feet and squaring off to him as he approached.
“Excuse me, Ma’am,” the old man panted. “Can I have just one moment of your time, please?”
Christina watched his shoulders heave as he took rapid shallow breaths and she almost felt sorry for him. “If you can explain to me what just happened back there I will give you FIVE moments, of OUR time.”
The old man smiled with relief, “Thank you,” he took deep breath then continued. “What you just witnessed back there may seem a little bizarre, but its pretty normal behavior around here.”
“Oh!” Christina cocked her head to the side, pinched her lips together in that challenging look of hers and just waited.
“His mother owns the place and he comes in here during the day as manager.” The old man paused and took another gulp of air, “Ohweeee, I haven’t run that fast in years… Anyway, like I was saying, he’s the daytime manager and commands the place like a second grade, Nazi concentration camp. He’s paranoid of anything new and he’s afraid somebody is going to fall down and take legal action ... And…, and he thinks that as long as everybody’s sitting in a wheel chair he’s safe. He mentioned seatbelts once and I think he was joking, but, he doesn’t joke.”
“So what’s his mother like?” Christina asked as she relaxed slightly and shifted to one hip.
“She’s okay, a bit over bearing, but fair enough. She had a dog once, she told me about it. I think you would have a whole lot better luck talking with her. In fact, I know you would.” The old man paused, squinted in deep thought and said, “Ya know…, that’s exactly what this place needs around here, some dogs and cats, maybe some birds, a fish tank, WOW! The potential for change here just boggles my mind.”
“And what about you?” Christina asked. “He said you had a stroke and can’t walk.”
“Oh, Jeeezz! He says that to everybody in here just to keep em in their chair. I had a hip replacement last year, and ol’ Doc Webster says that if I don’t start walking around more, real soon, I’m going to freeze up like an old rusty crank.
My name is Jake Livingston, by the way.”
“I’m Christina Freeman and this is Samantha.”
“Oh, I know who this little angle is." He glanced down with a BIG smile, “And her magic kitten, Molly.” He looked directly into Christina’s eyes, “The magic your daughter put back into my life today is something I never again want to lose.”
“Well… Thank you Jake, we’re from the shelter and she isn’t my daughter, we’re just friends.”
“The shelter! WOW! I use to work there when I was a kid, who’s running that place now?”
“I am!” Christina said with a hint of challenge, “We’re going there now, why don’t you come along? I’d like you to meet my father, if you have the time?”
“Time is all I’ve got in life, let’s go.”
They all loaded up in the van and headed back down the service road through the Sycamores.
Christina set the puppy in Samantha’s lap then pushed the doors opened and guided the wheel chair through, all while vehemently muttering her outrage under her breath. “Bad omens, when will I ever learn to listen to them?” She guided the wheel chair down the concrete ramp, gritted her teeth and pinched her lips tight, “How dare he! That little squirt…” she hissed to herself, out loud.
At the bottom of the ramp, she hooked a hard left onto the sidewalk, the wheelchair lifted up on its side slightly then slammed back down and the petunias serving as corner sentries waved in the passing breeze. Samantha looked up at Christina with a startled glare but the wide-eyed expression and grinning smirk on her face made it clear that she was digging the ride.
It was a straight run down the long sidewalk to where the Shelter’s old white Chevy van sat waiting and Christina put the pedal to the metal like any good NASCAR driver would do on the straightaway. “We can’t get out of this place fast enough kido, hang on to the critters.”
Then she heard it, somebody from behind hollered . “HELLO! HELLOOO!!!”
Christina slowed down, turned her head, and saw the old man just coming around the petunias. He was stiff and clearly out of breath as he did a brisk shuffle-walk towards them. She came to a full stop, turned the wheel chair around, and stepped to the front bracing her feet and squaring off to him as he approached.
“Excuse me, Ma’am,” the old man panted. “Can I have just one moment of your time, please?”
Christina watched his shoulders heave as he took rapid shallow breaths and she almost felt sorry for him. “If you can explain to me what just happened back there I will give you FIVE moments, of OUR time.”
The old man smiled with relief, “Thank you,” he took deep breath then continued. “What you just witnessed back there may seem a little bizarre, but its pretty normal behavior around here.”
“Oh!” Christina cocked her head to the side, pinched her lips together in that challenging look of hers and just waited.
“His mother owns the place and he comes in here during the day as manager.” The old man paused and took another gulp of air, “Ohweeee, I haven’t run that fast in years… Anyway, like I was saying, he’s the daytime manager and commands the place like a second grade, Nazi concentration camp. He’s paranoid of anything new and he’s afraid somebody is going to fall down and take legal action ... And…, and he thinks that as long as everybody’s sitting in a wheel chair he’s safe. He mentioned seatbelts once and I think he was joking, but, he doesn’t joke.”
“So what’s his mother like?” Christina asked as she relaxed slightly and shifted to one hip.
“She’s okay, a bit over bearing, but fair enough. She had a dog once, she told me about it. I think you would have a whole lot better luck talking with her. In fact, I know you would.” The old man paused, squinted in deep thought and said, “Ya know…, that’s exactly what this place needs around here, some dogs and cats, maybe some birds, a fish tank, WOW! The potential for change here just boggles my mind.”
“And what about you?” Christina asked. “He said you had a stroke and can’t walk.”
“Oh, Jeeezz! He says that to everybody in here just to keep em in their chair. I had a hip replacement last year, and ol’ Doc Webster says that if I don’t start walking around more, real soon, I’m going to freeze up like an old rusty crank.
My name is Jake Livingston, by the way.”
“I’m Christina Freeman and this is Samantha.”
“Oh, I know who this little angle is." He glanced down with a BIG smile, “And her magic kitten, Molly.” He looked directly into Christina’s eyes, “The magic your daughter put back into my life today is something I never again want to lose.”
“Well… Thank you Jake, we’re from the shelter and she isn’t my daughter, we’re just friends.”
“The shelter! WOW! I use to work there when I was a kid, who’s running that place now?”
“I am!” Christina said with a hint of challenge, “We’re going there now, why don’t you come along? I’d like you to meet my father, if you have the time?”
“Time is all I’ve got in life, let’s go.”
They all loaded up in the van and headed back down the service road through the Sycamores.
Stalled Destiny
Christina, Samantha, and Holly’s van turned off the secluded highway and up the obscure entrance drive. Christina gazed up at the huge monolithic stone archway and marveled at the polished granite keystone inscribed with the words, “GREEN ACRE’S HAPPY HOME”. The two massive spear-tipped iron gates swung inward like a Venus-Fly-Trap and rested wide open giving Christina a feeling of foreboding about entering. They followed along the narrow winding drive bordered by huge sycamore trees on either side that intertwined overhead forming a canopy that blocked out all sunlight.
Christina pulled the pet therapy-van into an angled parking-stall in front of the stone-faced retirement home. They sat there, looking the place over for a few minutes as the silence stretched out before them like a surreal passage in time. Putting her doubts aside, she drew in a deep breath and let out a gust of wind that made the dangling mirror charms spin. She turned her head and looked at her companions. "Well... Come on, mob! Let’s do it."
They entered the lobby area and Christina went directly to the reception desk to introduce their Pet Therapy Program to the manager. Samantha rolled on into the adjacent room with old white French doors wide-open. There were flowers everywhere but the fragrance was that of Pine-sol cleaner and furniture polish mixed in with some sort of commercial room deodorizer. The TV was on with soft mellow sounds of soap-opera drama. Scattered in hodgepodge fashion were five people sitting in wheel chairs, all facing aimlessly in their own directions of stalled destiny.
Four of them were sleeping and one was facing the TV. At the far end of the room, an old man sat alone, with an open book on his lap. His head was tipped slightly to the side with a bit of drool that had seeped out of the corner of his lips. He gazed out the only window with the Venetian blinds partially open and narrow shafts of sunlight struck him from the side, backlighting the rugged and chiseled features of his face.
Startled, the old man shifted his gaze over to her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Samantha, and this is Molly, my cat,” she said. “She’s magic you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” The old man glanced down at the kitten. “She doesn’t look magic.”
“I know---, no body knows, but she knows.”
“Knows what?”
Samantha pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the drool from the old man’s chin. “Want to see?”
“Want to see what?”
“Want to see some magic?”
The old man smiled, softly at first, then he chuckled, softly at first, then he laughed, softly at first but it quickly grew, and grew into the first belly laugh he'd had in a long time.
-------------------
Back in the reception room, Christina had stood at the old Formica counter top waiting for the man to finish writing, but his hand wasn’t moving. She waited and wondered if she should ring the little shinny bell. She softly cleared her throat.
The man jarred awake startled and wide-eyed. He cleared his throat, “Yes, can I help you?”
“Hi, yes, my name is Christina and this is Samantha --,” she looked around and saw Samantha in the other room talking to the old man. “Yes, Well. We’re with the local animal shelter promoting our Pet Therapy Program. We bring in kittens and puppies once a week for the elders to enjo….”
“Oh no!” the man interrupted while adjusting his glasses, “That is impossible, this is their rest time, and besides,” he tipped his head down and peered over his glasses, just now seeing the puppy in Christina‘s arms. “Oh no, no, no. I’m sorry but you have to understand, madam, these people that reside here have delicate health conditions,” he stammered. “Allergies, diseases and what-not, and animals could cause complications, ya know. And there is the concern, of, ----” he cleared his throat again. “God forbid should somebody get bit.” He looked again at the puppy, “Besides, our insurance company doesn’t allow animals in this facility, you understand.”
-------------------
Back in the recreation room, the old man was finally was able to stop laughing and catch his breath. He put two fingers to his mouth, and let rip one of the loudest and shrillest whistles ever. Every wheelchair in the room jolted as heads popped up. “Yo! Martha!” the old man hollered across the room, “Roll on over here! This girl’s got Magic!!!”
All five wheel chairs shifted at once, converging in unison to form the single most un-uniformed advancing onslaught of determined elders that Green Acres Happy Homes had ever witnessed.
Just then, the manager barged through the French doors with daunting authority. His quick stride and feminine gait brought him to the center of upheaval immediately. “That will be just about enough of this,” he protested with pseudo-clout.
Everybody sat silently and stared at his presiding stature.
“This is totally out of order and uncalled for,” he protested.
There was more deafening silence.
The manager looked over at Christina sternly and said, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave now. Do you see the disruption you and your animals have caused?”
Stunned, Christina and Samantha promptly headed for the doors, totally confused about this bizarre encounter. The old man rose from his wheelchair and followed them.
The manager’s mouth dropped open. “Mr. Livingston! You sit right back down in your chair this very minute, you know you had a stroke and can’t walk.”
“It’s magic you idiot!” The old man walked through the French doors behind Samantha and out the front doors.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Red Zone Dog
Tanya writes in to the Dog Whisperer group (Yahoo):
Dale Davis
PS
Hi again Tanya,
I just had a thought about your situation. How often do you use the muzzle? Frequent??? The appearance of the severe aggression might just be a result of the muzzle itself. Dogs learn bite inhibition by socializing with their litter mates in mock fighting and learn to control the pressure of their bite. Even the herding dogs that bite the hind legs of sheep do so only as a pinch for control.
But when you put the muzzle on your dog it prevents the him from opening the mouth and there-by short-circuits his ability to control bite inhibition. The dog might then learn how to use his muzzle as a fist to punch with, and without his ability to control bite-inhibition he could easily escalate in rage. This might appear as extreme viciousness but in fact might just be an adaptation on the dogs part to nip with a punch, without control.
BEWARE! I’m not suggesting that just removing the muzzle will reinstall the bite inhibition.
Dale Davis
- ("I wish I could have Cesar over to my house to help me know how to fix my dog. He is extremely, extremely, RED ZONE aggressive toward people who come to my house. If he were not restrained he would bite people in the face, it is that bad. A few years ago, my daughter who lives in Hawaii came for a week.
- Have the crate set up in the common room with flaps (blankets, sheets) on all four sides, in the up position.
- Muzzle your dog and have a leash attached.
- Have another family member invite a guest to enter.
- Instruct the guest to totally ignore your dog and just talk normally right there just inside the door. No talk, No Pet, No eye contact by anybody to the dog.
- At the first sign of aggression or barking, you control your dog and snap the leach saying “Hush!” Again, “HUSH!”
- Put him in a sit position and say “hush”, all while ignoring your dog and paying complete attention to the guest in a calm friendly manner.
- Maybe some finger bites timed perfectly with his barking or growling to get his attention to being quiet and calm. Or maybe some knee and foot touches for touch control and distraction.
- You join in with the conversation with a casual, calm, and confident voice from all.
- If he continues to bark and growl take it to the next step of control, the crate.
- You take the dog to the common room and put him in the crate and say “hush”
- Invite the guest to the common room and talk confidently and calmly totally ignoring your dog.
- If the aggressive behavior continues pull down the flaps covering the cage.
- If the aggressive behavior continues, play some music, loud and continue making small talk with the guest, in the common room.
- Make sure the guest is in an active mode of conversation with confidence in the voice.
- Sit down, relax and continue talking.
- When the dog eventually stops barking and growling, hopefully the same day, turn down the music a notch.
- If the dog remains calm and quiet lift up the back side-flap covering of the crate.
- Then walk over and sit down and continue talking.
- If the barking resumes put the flap back down and crank up the music still ignoring the dog completely.
- Step by step remove all control devises as the dog begins to cooperate.
- (The subliminal message to the dog is for him to be seen and not heard. This is your house, your guest, and he is to accept it or lose privileges. “Hush!!!)
- As he begins to understand this new rule of the new Alpha-In-Charge you can remove the flaps, turn down the radio and walk around like you own the place.
- Have your guest walk around while talking and then bid farewell and leave, then release your dog.
- Ten minutes later repeat this whole sequence starting with the door bell.
- Then do it again, then again.
- Do the same thing with a different guest.
- Repeat over and over again until eventually the dog accepts his new roll position in your pack.
- Continue these and other techniques that work for you for the rest of your life, as needed.
He was muzzled and hit her hard in the face on the first day. He would have mauled her terribly if it were not for the muzzle.
I ALWAYS let him know that this behavior is unwanted by me, but he goes from 0 to 10 instantaneously and I just don't know what to do. Tanya")
Reply:
Hi Tanya.
You’ve got a serious issue here. This is a disaster waiting to happen and I shudder to think what might happen if your kids invite a friend over and your dog gets loose. Desensitizing him to new invited members of your pack and changing his perception of being the guard dog is imperative. Here’s some ideas;
Dale Davis
PS
Hi again Tanya,
I just had a thought about your situation. How often do you use the muzzle? Frequent??? The appearance of the severe aggression might just be a result of the muzzle itself. Dogs learn bite inhibition by socializing with their litter mates in mock fighting and learn to control the pressure of their bite. Even the herding dogs that bite the hind legs of sheep do so only as a pinch for control.
But when you put the muzzle on your dog it prevents the him from opening the mouth and there-by short-circuits his ability to control bite inhibition. The dog might then learn how to use his muzzle as a fist to punch with, and without his ability to control bite-inhibition he could easily escalate in rage. This might appear as extreme viciousness but in fact might just be an adaptation on the dogs part to nip with a punch, without control.
BEWARE! I’m not suggesting that just removing the muzzle will reinstall the bite inhibition.
Dale Davis
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